


Puppet Strings

by bamby0304



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Blood Play, Bondage, Chains, Choking, Dry Humping, Explicit Language, F/M, Fingering, Grace Kink, Knife Play, Praise Kink, Self-Harm, Smut, Squirting, dub-con, kidnapped!reader, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 06:12:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18277412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bamby0304/pseuds/bamby0304
Summary: Bound by the archangel Michael, you struggle to keep a strong grasp on reality as his hold on you blurs the lines for fact and fiction. With no freewill of your own, you’re left to his devices as he takes control of your life… and your body.





	Puppet Strings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CrashDevil (cjdevlin19)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjdevlin19/gifts).



> A/N: Using this for both my spndarkbingo and spnkinkbingo cards, the squares used are detailed below. This is also for crashdevlin’s challenge, and uses my prompt: “Sorry about the chains. It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s… Actually, it is that I don’t trust you”. 
> 
> ***HEED THE WARNINGS***
> 
> Warnings: Explicit language. Angst. Smut. Chains. Bondage. Kidnapped!Reader. Dub-con. Grace kink. Praise kink. Self-harm. Blood play. Knife play. Fingering. Dry humping. Unprotected sex. Choking. Squirting.

 

You were miserable, locked in shackles that were wrapped around your wrists and ankles. Despite not being attached to anything, you were still unable to move freely… magic held you in the bedroom, securing you to the one place he ever truly wanted you.

He. Him. The man who had whisked you away with a villainous gleam in his eyes and a charming smirk on his lips. Lips you’d dreamt of kissing once before. Eyes that had haunted your deepest desires for well over a decade. You’d hunted with the Winchesters a long time ago. You knew the face of the man who had taken you.

As a hunter, however, you’d heard the warnings ringing out in the hunting community…

Dean Winchester had been possessed by the archangel Michael.

As far as everyone else was concerned, Michael had fallen off the face of the Earth. There was barely any hope left for the older Winchester. No one other than his family thought he’d be seen again. So when you were confronted by the angel during a hunt, you’d been shocked into silence… and then knocked unconscious.

Waking in what appeared to be a five star suite, you’d been utterly confused and somewhat terrified. At first you’d had the mindset of a hunter with one clear goal… escape. Unfortunately, it took very little time before you realised there was no way out. Some kind of force tugged on your binds every time you attempted leave. You couldn’t reach for any window or door- save for the ensuite- without being pulled back by an invisible tether.

You’d been stuck in this room for two weeks now, and even though it had barely been any time, you’d changed…

The doors opened and you perked up, watching for a brief moment before he walked through the wide doorway of the bedroom. Dressed in a tuxedo and that same menacing grin, Michael’s gaze landed on your hundled form as you sat huddled against the headboard.

“Evening, pet,” he cooed, walking over to the small table and chair in the corner before taking a seat to watch you.

You shuddered at the sound of his voice. It tingled along your spine, doing things to you that would make others sick… you were too far gone to be disgusted, though. Too far gone to see how wrong this was.

He began to tug on his bowtie, undoing it as he stayed trained on you. “Sorry about the chains.” He reached for the bottle of whiskey on the table, and poured a drink into the crystal glass beside it. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s… actually, it is that I don’t trust you.” Lips tugging on a grin, he lifted the glass and took a sip.

After a pause, he put the glass back down and rose from the bed. Eyes trained on him, just as his were on you, you watched as he started towards the bed.

Reaching a hand out, he gave the air a tug. As if the tethers on your binds were material, he somehow used them to pull you closer. A small whimper escaped your lips before you began to crawl along the mattress as quickly as you could with your bound limbs.

The chains allowed your ankles to part by about a foot, while your wrists were given a little more leeway. It made it difficult to do most things, but you were managing. After all, when you refused Michael things never went well, so you had to be quick to do as he pleased.

Just as you reached the foot of the bed, he came to a stop in front of you.

You kept your eyes cast down as you tried not to flinch. You never knew what to expect from the archangel. Most days he came in just to watch you. He’d sit in the corner and stare, for hours on end, and say nothing as he sipped on whiskey. Other days, the bad days, he’d come in and take his anger out on you. Sometimes, though, he’d touch you gently… experiment… tease and taste, and experience both your body and the one he wore.

The back and forth of it all had caused most of your confusion, but his grace played a larger part.

A gentle hand came up to cup your cheek before it slid over to grasp and lift your chin until you were looking up at him.

“Thirsty?” he asked, as if sensing you train of thought.

Words had failed you days ago, now you were barely able to manage a meek nod.

Lips pulling into a wider grin, Michael pulled his hand away from you and opened his suit jacket. Reaching in with his other, he pulled out an ornate marble handled dagger, with a smooth and flawless edge made from a melted down angel blade. You watched with bated breath as he then offered you the weapon.

When you just eyed the knife, he asked, “What do you want?”

You whimpered, nibbling on your lip as your eyes dragged up to his barely exposed wrist.

“It’s yours to take, pet… so take it.”

Not needing to be told again, you lifted your shaking hand and took the knife from his upturned palm. As he continued to hover his hand in front of you, you brought the knife to his wrist and let the sharp edge glide along his skin before you added more pressure.

Red weeped from the cut, quickly followed by the bright glow of his grace.

“Drink.”

The first time he’d forced you to taste him like this had been completely involuntary. You’d been held down as he pressed the edge of a chalice to your lips and pried them open. Your mouth had flooded with the coppery taste of blood, and the otherworldly tingle of his grace- which had more of an artificial strawberry taste to it, that reminded you of sweet cough syrup.

It had been an odd experience that you’d fought against. Now, however, you drank greedily.

The soft soothing voice, and a gentle stroke of an invisible but encouraging hand, guided you to his wrist, prompting you to seal your lips around the cut. Your eyes rolled back and a hum vibrated from your chest as you sucked at the wound.

All it took were mere moments before you felt the cool rush of his power. The way his grace caressed every part of you, waking nerve endings no human could ever experience without the aid of a higher being. You felt like you were being consumed, surrounded, drowned in the glow of something so out of this world you couldn’t even comprehend its existence.

Michael stood and watched as the strength of his blood left you so light headed and helpless, you couldn’t even stop yourself from falling back onto the bed.

“Good pet,” he cooed.

Right before your eyes, as you enjoyed the feeling of his grace tingle every cell in your body, his wrist healed.

Once he was no longer bleeding, Michael began to tug on his suit jacket. His eyes devoured the sight of you as he began to strip, his lips curling into a sinister grin as your writhed and moaned. Eyes rolling back, fingers clutching at the sheets above your head, you let the familiar but surreal feelings stirring inside you take over.

The feel of his power slid up your leg. Now not only were you being consumed by his grace inside you, but he was teasing with the power he still possessed.

You whined as it slipped between your thighs, pushing them open so Michael could watch as your soaked slit sucked in his grace willingly and desperately. He watched as the invisible force of his power stretched you open just enough to give you pleasure, but not enough to ease the burn you were bound to feel once he was truly inside you.

Moaning and groaning, you fucked yourself on his grace, throwing your head back as you drank in the feel of him pressing against your sweet spot. Stroking, pressing, thrusting, fucking, he drove you wild and watched every second. He grinned smugly, knowing you were inches from your ending and he hadn’t even touched you with his bare hands, yet.

Surprisingly, he gave you what you craved. It wasn’t unheard of, but Michael preferred to tease and torture you in every way possible. For him to allow you this high so soon, you knew he what he had install for you would be rigorous and merciless.

The broken cry that left your lips accompanied by the feel of your entire body shaking as pure euphoria coursed through your veins. Fuelled by his grace and the high it produced, your body sang praises to the angel above you.

“You’ve been such a good girl, pet.” The feel of his gentle hand coming to rest on your calf made you jump and whine for more. “Only my special girl gets to drink from me.” His hand began to slide along your skin, inching closer and closer to your inner thighs. “But it’s only fair you bleed for me in return, don’t you think?”

Eyes fluttering open, you found yourself staring at the knife you’d used to cut his wrist. It now sat in his palm again, flat and inviting.

“I will give you what you want, what you _truly_ want, if you prove yourself.”

Reaching out with trembling fingers, you took the knife from the palm of his hand and held it in yours.

Despite having used it time and time again, despite having acquainted yourself with the weapon, it suddenly felt foreign. It was heavier, studier. Looking at the shine of its blade, feeling the weight of it in your hand, you found yourself staring at it like it was a stranger.

“Show me how much you want me, and I will give you everything,” Michael urged.

Gazing snapping to meet his, you locked on to the emerald colour of the eyes he wore and adjusted the knife until you felt it prick your sternum. He watched, greedily and hungrily, eyes alight with an excitement you’d never seen on him before. Knowing you had his full attention, you began to apply pressure.

When the blade broke through your skin, you hissed out in pain. A flash you did not like worked its way through your body, begging you to stop what you were doing. Eyes squeezing shut, teeth clenched together, you began to glide the sharp blade down.

Michael watched as you cut yourself agonisingly slow. When you felt his fingers stroke your folds, you opened your eyes and found he wasn’t even focused on your glistening slit. In fact, you doubted he even knew what he was doing. Michael was too transfixed on the blade and the crimson it mined from underneath your silky skin.

Feeling his gaze on you, seeing the unabashed desire in his eyes… the unwelcome feeling of panic washed away. Suddenly you welcomed the pain you were inflicting upon yourself.

As two fingers pressed into you, and the blade reached the end of your breastbone, you felt a fluttering orgasm overcome you.

“Enough.” Michael reached forward and snatched the blade away, throwing it across the room. Grabbing your bound ankles, he hooked them over his head to keep you close and in place.

Unable to move, you began to wriggle and struggle, overcome with a need for more as you watched him pluck at his shirt buttons hastily. His darkened eyes stayed locked on your chest, on the way the blood pooled and weeped around your breasts.

Driven by your desire and his, you pressed yourself against his crotch and began to grind yourself against him. He was already hard as steel, just as eager and desperate for you as you were for him.

Keeping your ankles on his shoulders, he shrugged his shirt off. Instead of working on his pants, however, he reached for your hips and held you in place before bucking into you. He grunted and growled, fingers digging into your skin as you whined and nodded for more. Quickly, before either of you were too far gone into your need, Michael rid himself of his pants and underwear, leaving himself bare.

Drool gathered in your mouth at the sight of his reddened cock, so hard it looked painful.

Not giving you anymore time to admire the view of him, Michael lined himself up and thrust in until he slammed against your cervix. You screamed, lips tearing apart to push out a sound so high pitched it resembled the screech of a banshee. There was no time to be embarrassed, though. No, Michael didn’t give you a moment to be mortified, instead he began the thrust mercilessly, chasing his end.

Eyes glued to your chest, he snarled as his hips slapped against yours. The bed creaked under the force of his thrusts, slamming into the wall with every push into you. Helpless, unable to do anything in your position, you simply cried out and arched into his touch, overwhelmed by its force but desperate for more.

When he grew closer to finishing, Michael leaned in and wrapped a hand around your throat. Your eyes shot open and hands shot down to grasp and try to pull him away. It was instinct, and pointless.

Michael was too strong for you to beat… and he was not going to kill you. This wasn’t the first time he’d wrapped his fingers around your throat and squeezed until you could not breathe. It wasn’t the first time he’d watched your face as you struggled to suck in air. Wasn’t the first time the pleasure in your gaze was replaced by fear.

Eyes boring into yours, he squeezed tighter and fucked you harder. The feel of his grace still inside you made your panic increase tenfold as you felt yourself begin to fade. As you began to feel yourself falling into darkness.

Thrusts faltering, Michael came with a roar, spilling deep inside you. Just as suddenly, his hand released your throat as a cool rush of his grace washed over your heated skin. Just like that your head was thrown back in a silent scream as you came, gushing around his cock still buried inside you.

Dragging his gaze down your body, Michael stared at the blood still seeping from the cut on your chest. “You do as I say. You give me what I want. You bend to my will without so much as a word of defiance.”

Reaching for your chest, he drew his finger along your cut before bringing the bloodied tip to his mouth. Unable to look away, you watched as he sucked it clean.

“You’re going to help me reshape this world. You’re going to help me tear it apart. The hunter, the saviour you once were is now dead. You’re mine now, pet. Mine to manipulate, mine to control. You are my puppet and I am your puppeteer.”

Dragging your eyes away from his red tinged lips, you met his gaze one last time and knew in that moment there was no escaping this all powerful being… and nothing pleased you more.

**Bamby**


End file.
